


Supposedly A Little Thing

by GhostTEETH



Category: HLVRAI - Fandom, Half Life VR But The AI Is Self Aware
Genre: Anxiety, Depression, Found Family, Gender Dysphoria, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Internalized Transphobia, Intersex Character, Light Angst, Other, Panic Attacks, They/Them Pronouns For Benrey (Half-Life), Trans Gordon Freeman
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-18 17:48:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29372598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GhostTEETH/pseuds/GhostTEETH
Summary: Gordon's been acting a little odd lately.
Relationships: Benrey/Gordon Freeman, Bubby/Dr. Coomer (Half-Life)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 77





	Supposedly A Little Thing

**Author's Note:**

> vent fic, projecting onto Gordon
> 
> (my pronouns are they/he btw)

Benrey  _ knew _ Gordon wasn’t ok, but they had no idea what was wrong. They’d seen him shaking earlier, repeatedly fixing his shirt, despite the fact that it looked completely fine. Shit, he’d even spent nearly an hour in the bathroom, doing God knows what. During lunch, Gordon ran off after suddenly grabbing his face, like he’d cracked a tooth, and refused to open the door to anyone, even Tommy.

Well, not  _ anyone. _

Dr. Coomer had gone in once everyone was down the hall.

If they knew that they would  _ actually  _ get an answer, a real answer, they would ask Dr. Coomer if he had any idea what was going on. But the Science Team had learned that Dr. Coomer would never divulge info on whatever might be stressing Gordon, even if he knew. At this point, Benrey was stuck. Gordon was definitely not going to answer, and Dr. Coomer was the master at purposefully sidetracking conversations.

“Maybe you could clip through the floors and watch him,” Bubby snorted, leaning back in his chair. Benrey pursed their lips, genuinely considering it, but Dr. Coomer immediately slammed his hands against the table.

_ “Absolutely not.” _ he snapped, his tone and face taking an uncharacteristically aggressive edge. They all jumped back, startled, and Tommy grabbed onto Sunkist in panic.

“Wh-why would…” Tommy started.

“Gordon is obviously dealing with something right now, he does  _ not _ need his privacy intruded on.” Dr. Coomer said. “The fact that you’d even suggest that, Doctor.” He stopped himself, taking a deep breath, clenching and unclenching his fists.

Bubby’s eyes were wide and he sat forward slowly. He knew he’d fucked up, but-

Dr. Coomer was out of the room before anyone could say another word, and they all stared after him. His footsteps led up the stairs to Gordon’s room, and a soft knocking could be heard.

“What… what do, do you think is going on?” Tommy whispered, stroking Sunkist’s head.

“dunno. maybe feetman got uuhh rabies or somethin.” Benrey said, still startled.

_ Still thinking of what Bubby said. _

They fell into another awkward silence, waiting for something to happen, or someone to say something.

Thankfully, Dr. Coomer is one of the best at breaking silences.

“Friends, I’m going to the store to get hair clippers. Please do not cause any trouble for Mister Freeman while I am gone,” Dr. Coomer said, pulling his coat over his shoulders.

Tommy blinked. “Hair clippers?”

“Hair clippers.”

They all glanced at each other.

_ What. _

Once Dr. Coomer was out the door, Benrey stood up, making a decision they  _ might _ regret later.

“B-benrey?” Tommy whispered.

“gonna uhhh, check on feetman. might need water or somethin, idk.” Bubby rolled his eyes at Benrey’s use of “idk” in a genuine conversation, but said nothing otherwise.

///

_ It fucking hurt.  _

He’d dealt with this for years, had gotten it under control, he thought he’d gotten it under control, had gotten through Black Mesa with it so it should have been gone, but no. It had to come back, had to be so much worse than it ever was before.

Gordon was tired.

He was tired of crying at night. In the shower. Of applying stupid cream and makeup to his jaw. Of wearing so many damn layers.

He held his head in his hands, trying to calm himself  _ yet again _ , trying to remind himself it was fine. No one but Coomer knew, so it was okay, he was safe.

_ Fuck, he wanted to scream. _

It ached in every goddamn part of his body, deeper than anything Black Mesa threw at him. He wanted this stupid fucking pain gone.

_ Coomer isn’t here. You could just do one, real quick, right on your thigh- _

No. No. Gordon knew he’d feel so much more guilty if he cut himself and lied to Coomer, especially when Coomer was already going out of his way to help him and-

“bro. you good in there.”

_ Benrey. _

Gordon frantically wrapped his blankets around him, trying to hide… everything. He took a deep breath to gather his strength, but a sob broke through.

“let benrey in? best bro benrey come chill with his bro?”

  
Gordon paused. Benrey could be a good distraction, until Coomer got back. Take his mind off everything with their rambling and things would be ok.

“Come in.” Gordon mumbled, pulling the blankets tighter around himself, bracing for impact.

The door almost slammed into the dresser, but Benrey caught it, having learned that kicking doors open usually made a lot of noise and also made the dresser shake and all that shit. All stuff Gordon didn’t like.

“got it.” Benrey said, smiling brightly.

Gordon laughed softly, seeing how proud they were of having caught the door. “Good job, man.” Benrey’s face lit up further, but it dropped quickly after as they closed the door softly.

“whats up man. been all sad n not poggers n shit. worried.”

The hopes of Benrey being a distraction immediately were dashed, and Gordon felt his chest tighten again. “Just not… feeling good.” Gordon mumbled.

Benrey frowned and sat on the bed. “mmm miss my bros pretty face, see gordon face please?” Benrey said, reaching out with grabby hands. Before Gordon could react, Benrey was tugging at the blanket, and Gordon flung himself away.

The blanket fell to the floor and-

Oh no.

///

Benrey stared at Gordon, thoughts rushing through their head on  _ how badly they had fucked up and how Dr. Coomer was going to actually genuinely kill all of them because of Benrey oh fuck that’s why Gordon was hiding. _

It clicked now, why Gordon had spent so much time adjusting his shirt, why he wore so many layers, why his beard sometimes looked a little less fuller throughout the day.

“youre trans.” Benrey said plainly.

Gordon looked away, covering himself up, shrinking into himself. He nodded, almost shamefully, tears pricking his eyes. Benrey sat on the floor near the bed, trying to give Gordon space. “dysphoria?” they said softly. Gordon nodded again, his hair falling over his face.

_ Oh, the clippers. To cut Gordon’s hair. _

“uhhh. got binders or-” Gordon shook his head.

“Ribs and lungs are bad. Were bad. Before Black Mesa. Not safe for me to wear them.” he mumbled, his voice shaky.

_ Oh. _

Fuck.

“Don’t say T either.”

  
Benrey stared. “why.”

They watched as Gordon pulled his knees up to his chest, hiccuping. “My uh, chromosomes are fucked.” He stopped to watch Benrey before elaborating. “I’m… intersex. Specifically got a thing from it that makes HRT useless. Won’t do a damn thing.” Gordon laughed, tears running down his face.

“I was on T for about a month when I found out. Fucking wrecked me. I’ve done vocal training to try and pass better and I got lucky there. But I have to do hair creams and makeup and fucking stupid hair glue to try for a beard. Without it I look…” Gordon trailed off, wiping his eyes.

He stared at the ground. “Benrey… it hurts. It hurts so fucking bad.” he said softly.

Benrey nodded. “yeah.” They paused. “can i... help?”

Their heart sank as Gordon shook his head. “Nothing makes it go away anymore. I can’t even sleep because I have dreams about looking in the mirror and seeing… not this. I’m sorry.”

“dont apologize bro, not your fault.” Benrey said. “uh. the others… they wont care. Llke. they wont think less of you or anything, you know.”

Gordon looked up at Benrey. “wont say anything unless you want me to. just. youre our gordon n we want our gordon to be happy.” They smiled as Gordon laughed again.

“Actually… could you just sit with me?” Gordon said shyly, looking away. “I don’t really want to be alone right now.”

Benrey scooted closer, a few Sweet Voice notes slipping out. “anything for my bro.”

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> To those who are confused or have questions, I'm a very specific form of AFAB intersex that basically makes it so my body produces certain hormones that make HRT basically 100% pointless. Where most people who do T get around 6 months, would take me up to 18 to 24 months (year and a half to two years) to get there IF it did anything at all. That'd be injections the whole time. I also have severe asthma and scoliosis, plus deformed ribs and a genetic disorder that causes issues with connective tissues, meaning binding is not an option for me. While I've done vocal training to lower my naturally deep voice, it's extremely depressing and upsetting for me, and has been for a long time, to know that nothing can really be done. It's gotten much worse lately, so. Gordon time.


End file.
